Read Alice-Miranda Shows the Way Online

Authors: Jacqueline Harvey

Tags: #FICTION

Alice-Miranda Shows the Way (4 page)

A
s Bonaparte jogged towards the caravans, Alice-Miranda could see a group of about ten children kicking a ball. A chubby girl standing on the sideline looked up and pointed at her, then shouted something, and the game came to an abrupt halt. All eyes were on the two ponies and their riders.

‘Hello,' Alice-Miranda called and waved.

‘Hello,' the small girl who had first spotted them called back. ‘Who are you?'

Alice-Miranda slid down from the saddle and
walked Bonaparte over to where the group was standing. She undid the strap on her helmet and took it off.

‘My name's Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones. And that's my friend, Millicent Jane McLoughlin-McTavish-McNoughton-McGill, but she prefers Millie.'

‘Hi,' Millie called and waved. She dismounted too and pulled the reins over Chops's head.

‘Geez, listen to you two with your posh names and your posh-lookin' ponies. I suppose you're probably related to the Queen too,' a tall boy sneered.

‘No, Aunty Gee's not a blood relative but she is Mummy's godmother,' Alice-Miranda replied.

The boy rolled his eyes.

‘What's your name?' Alice-Miranda asked him.

‘If you must know, Miss Nosey, I'm Pete and he's Robbie and he's Jim and that's Lola and Fern and Rory and Stephen and Indigo and Nick and Ellie.' He pointed at them all one by one. ‘And that little pest there –' he waved a finger at the chubby girl – ‘is Ivy.'

She poked her tongue out at him. ‘Am not a pest!' Ivy was holding a tatty doll. It had matted hair and was missing an arm.

‘I'm sorry, but I don't know if I'll be able to remember all your names straight away.' Alice-Miranda looked at Ivy and her doll. ‘You must love her a lot.'

The small child nodded.

‘What are the ponies called?' Ivy asked.

‘He's Bonaparte,' Alice-Miranda replied, ‘and that's Chops.'

‘What a daft name for a horse,' Pete scoffed. ‘In't that a brand of dog food?'

‘So what if it is?' Millie retorted.

‘I'm getting a pony,' Ivy said.

‘No, you're not,' Pete snapped. ‘Where are we gonna put a pony? All the rides round here are mechanical. You know how much Alf hates havin' more mouths to feed.'

At the mention of the name ‘Alf', a suffocating silence fell over the group. Alice-Miranda wondered if he was in charge of the carnival, and why his name had such an effect.

‘Can we play?' Alice-Miranda asked as she glanced around and spied the scuffed football that the boy called Rory was holding.

‘What do you think?' Pete asked the other kids. ‘Should we let the poshos play? Reckon they're any good?'

‘Oh, I'm afraid I'm not,' Alice-Miranda said, ‘but Millie's fantastic.'

‘All right, let's pick the teams again. Rory, you can be the captain for the Rangers and I'm the captain for the Stars. I'm going first. I want Robbie.' Pete pointed at the boy with dark curls.

‘Stephen.' Rory pointed at a kid with closely cropped blond hair.

‘I want li'l Jimmy,' Pete continued.

Rory pointed. ‘Nick.'

‘Hey, what about the girls?' Indigo called out. ‘It's not fair. You always pick the boys first.'

‘Indigo, you're with us.' Pete pointed at her and she smiled.

‘Lola,' said Rory.

‘Fern,' said Pete.

‘Ellie,' said Rory.

‘Red.' Pete pointed at Millie.

Millie rolled her eyes. ‘My name's Millie.'

‘Yeah, whatever,' Pete replied. ‘I'm calling you Red.'

‘Alice-whatever-your-name-is,' said Rory.

‘What about me?' Ivy whined.

Rory shook his head. ‘No, the teams are even. You can't play.'

‘That's not fair!' Ivy stamped her foot and threw her doll on the ground. ‘I'm going to tell my dad on you, Rory.'

Rory relented. ‘All right, you can be the ref, then.'

Ivy turned around and smiled with all her teeth. ‘You gotta give me the whistle.'

Rory sighed. ‘Just don't lose it or you're buying me a new one.' He took a whistle on a string from around his neck and placed it around Ivy's.

‘Are they playing too?' Pete asked, looking at the ponies. Millie and Alice-Miranda were holding their reins loosely and the hungry pair were now chomping on the long clumps of grass which grew on the edge of the field.

Alice-Miranda laughed. ‘Oh, I don't think so. Bony would be much too competitive. Come on, mister.' She pulled hard on the reins and managed to get Bonaparte's head out of the grass. Millie did the same and the girls walked the ponies over to the fence and hitched their reins to the wire. On the other side, along the bank of the stream, a stand of willow trees swayed lazily in the breeze like a row of hula dancers.

‘I suppose they seem okay,' Millie whispered to Alice-Miranda.

‘Bony and Chops will be fine here,' Alice-Miranda nodded.

‘I meant those kids. Except that one who keeps calling me Red.'

‘Oh.' Alice-Miranda smiled at Millie. ‘Maybe he just couldn't remember your name.'

The teams lined up against one another. Sticks at either end of the field marked out goalposts. Other than that there were no lines. It was up to Ivy to blow the whistle when she thought there was an infringement. Rory had won the toss and as Ivy blew the whistle, the lad kicked off. He shot the ball backwards to Stephen, who dribbled it down the pitch before running into Pete, who stole the ball and kicked it to Robbie, who was quickly cornered by Rory and Nick.

‘Over here,' the thin girl with dark hair called.

‘Fern!' Robbie shouted and booted it towards her. She dribbled the ball up the field, managing to dodge Rory, then Stephen. She was close to the goal.

‘Don't let her score,' Nick yelled. ‘Get the ball!'

Before anyone had time to tackle her, Fern struck the ball and it flew through the two sticks.

A cheer went up from Pete's Stars, who leapt about, slapping each other on the back. Pete pulled
his shirt over his head like the footballers on television and ran around with his arms outstretched like an aeroplane's wings. Fern gave Millie a huge smile before high-fiving her.

The game continued for about ten minutes with Rory's Rangers scoring the next two goals. Alice-Miranda had only kicked the ball once but she was enjoying running around the field.

Rory booted the ball hard and it flew past the ponies and through the fence.

‘I'll get it,' said Alice-Miranda.

She ran to the fence and ducked through the wires that divided Gertrude's Grove from the stream. She scanned the bank for the ball but couldn't see it. A couple of thick shrubs grew close to the water's edge. Alice-Miranda scampered along the bank and was just about to check under the shrubs when she noticed a boy sitting a little further downstream on a flat rock. She thought he looked about the same age as Lucas and Sep, and he was engrossed in something.

‘Hello,' Alice-Miranda called. The boy glanced up at her but quickly focused back on whatever it was he'd been looking at.

‘Oh, goodness!' Alice-Miranda exclaimed. ‘What a lovely lot of badges you've got there.'

Sitting on the rock in neat rows were at least forty badges of all different shapes, colours and sizes. Beside them was a plastic drawstring bag.

The boy pointed to the badges one at a time as he said, ‘That's from the fire brigade. It's an Inspector's badge from 1978 and that's the Queen's Guards badge from 1985 and that one Fern got from Chicken Charlie's last year.'

Alice-Miranda read the name on another badge and wondered who Sylvia Rutherford was.

The boy looked up at her and she noticed that he had the most extraordinary amber-coloured eyes, like one of Miss Hephzibah's cats.

‘My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones.' She offered her hand, which he completely ignored. ‘What's your name?'

His attention went back to the badges.

‘Tarquin James Sharlan,' he said.

‘Well, it's lovely to meet you Tarquin James Sharlan. I'm looking for the football,' Alice-Miranda explained. She was surprised the other children hadn't come after her by now. She spied the ball under a bush close to the boy, reached in and pulled it out. ‘Do you want to play?'

‘Not allowed,' the boy said, staring at his collection. ‘They won't let me.'

‘Why don't you come back with me and we'll see what they say?'

Tarquin began to put his treasures away in the drawstring bag. He counted the badges as he placed them carefully inside.

‘Do you want some help with that?' Alice-Miranda reached down to assist.

‘Don't touch!' he snapped. ‘I can do it.'

Alice-Miranda backed away and watched him finish packing his belongings. He dusted each badge before placing it carefully into the bag. Alice-Miranda finally emerged from the bushes with Tarquin behind her.

‘About time,' Rory yelled. ‘We were gonna send a search party.'

Pete spied Tarquin. ‘Oh, what's he doing here?' he sighed.

‘I thought he could join the game,' said Alice-Miranda as she ran onto the field. Tarquin hung back near the fence.

‘No way,' Rory said.

‘Why not?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘Because he's weird,' Pete said.

The children had now gathered around Alice-Miranda.

‘He is not!' Fern spat.

‘Is too,' Robbie said.

‘He can play if he wants,' Fern said firmly.

‘Sides won't be even then,' Pete said.

From the other side of the temporary fairground came a wailing cry, like a banshee with a bee-sting. ‘Jimmy Peterson, you get off that field and come and clean up your rubbish.'

Jimmy sighed. ‘I gotta go, or she'll be out here dragging me by the ear.' He scampered off towards the camp.

Alice-Miranda looked at Pete. ‘Now you need another player for your team.'

‘Tarq, come on,' Fern called to the boy.

Alice-Miranda noticed that Fern's eyes were almost the exact same colour as Tarquin's. She had a similar olive complexion and dark hair too.

Tarquin ran towards the field.

‘What about me?' Ivy whined. ‘I don't want to be the referee any more. It's boring.'

‘I'll swap if you like,' Ellie offered.

Ivy gave her the whistle and skipped back to find a position.

‘He has to be the goalie,' said Pete, making a face at Tarquin. ‘And you'd better not let any through.'

Tarquin meandered off to the other end of the field and stood between the makeshift posts. Pete kicked off and with Robbie making a clear run, it looked like his team was set for another goal to draw the match. Just as Robbie struck the ball towards the posts, Nick intercepted and ran the full length of the field.

Pete looked at the empty goal. ‘Where's Tarquin?' he yelled angrily.

Tarquin had disappeared and was now sitting on the sideline examining a stick.

Nick flew towards the goals and kicked. Score!

Rory's Rangers were leading three to one.

‘I told you he's an idiot,' said Pete, storming towards Tarquin.

‘Leave him alone,' Fern yelled. ‘He didn't mean it.'

Pete grabbed Tarquin by the shirt and shook him.

‘Stop it!' Fern screamed. The rest of the kids ran to see what was going on.

Alice-Miranda tried to reason with him. ‘Please, Pete. I'm sure that Tarquin was just distracted.'

‘What would you know?' Pete yelled at her. ‘You don't know him. You don't know anything about him. Someone needs to teach him a lesson.' Pete picked up the bag containing Tarquin's badge collection.

‘NO!' the boy yelled and snatched it back again.

‘Why, you!' Pete reached out to push Tarquin but Fern got in the way. He shoved her with all his might and she fell to the ground, taking the full weight on her left wrist.

Tarquin rushed at Pete. Alice-Miranda tried to stop him but Pete flung her out of the way like a rag doll. The tiny girl fell, grazing her forehead on a sharp stone that was hidden in the grass.

‘Pete, stop it!' Rory yelled. ‘Alf's coming. If he catches you fighting you know what he'll do.'

‘Go and play with your stupid badges,' Pete yelled at Tarquin, who immediately sprang to his feet and ran towards the fence, nimbly negotiating the wires and disappearing through the willows.

Pete reached out to help Alice-Miranda up.

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and her head hurt a little but she grabbed his hand.

‘You shouldn't have done that,' he said. ‘You shouldn't have interfered.' Then without another word, the group scattered and Pete ran off towards the caravans and out of sight.

Fern lay on the ground. She was holding her wrist and crying quietly.

‘That Pete's a brute,' said Millie. She reached out to help Fern stand. ‘You should see the doctor about your wrist. It might be broken.'

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